


Summer Wine

by LindsayBay



Category: Tombstone (1993)
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, Come Shot, Daddy Kink, F/M, Spanking, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 12:19:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12864381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindsayBay/pseuds/LindsayBay
Summary: Sherman McMasters (Tombstone character played by Michael Rooker) has a sexy interlude with a woman and her wine. Inspired by the Nancy Sinatra/Lee Hazelwood song 'Summer Wine'.





	Summer Wine

Sherman’s eyes locked on the woman the moment she stepped through those swinging doors. She wore a split skirt that ended just a few inches below her knees so she didn’t have to ride side-saddle and a man’s hat. She had a gun at each hip. “Hey, there, Virgil,” she said to the saloon keeper as she set a bottle on the wooden bar, “I’ve got a batch of my summer wine to sell ya, if it meets with your approval.”

As Virgil opened the wine and poured out some to sample, the woman turned and looked at Sherman. Her eyes swept from his sombrero all the way down to his silver-spurred boots. “ ‘Bout time ya got somethin’ to pretty up the place, Virgil,” she commented, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Sherman couldn’t help grinning back.

“Don’t waste your time with a woman like that,” the Cowboy on the barstool next to Sherman said. “The girls at the place down the street will do whatever ya want for a coin.”

Sherman grunted. He wasn’t into soiled doves. He didn’t want to be with a woman who was just pretending. If that meant getting his wick dipped less often than the other Cowboys, so be it. He preferred quality over quantity. And this woman, she was quality. She probably had strong thighs from riding like a man, and that braid hanging down her back was perfect for pulling. He watched her tug her gloves off, imagining her right hand with its signet ring stroking his cock.

Virgil approved of the wine and sent his boy out to get the rest from her pack mules. “My wife’s got the water heating for your bath,” he told the woman. “Tub should be ready upstairs in half an hour.”

“Thank you kindly, Virgil. Can’t wait to wash off the road dust.” She turned and gave Sherman another look. “Haven’t seen ya ‘round these parts before.”

“Just passin’ through.”

She pouted a little. “That’s a shame. I wouldn’t mind getting to know ya better.”

“I’m goin’ to the cathouse,” the other Cowboy announced, “Ya comin’, McMasters?”

“Nope. I like it better here.”

“Mc…  Master?” the woman drawled with a feline smile.

He took a swig of whiskey, watching the woman through his eyelashes. She made his britches feel way too tight.  “I’m Sherman McMasters.”

“Nice to meet ya, Sherm. I’m Y/N.”

...................

Sherman McMasters really is a delicious morsel. Most of the men you see around here are about as ugly as an old shoe and twice as smelly. This one is a bit sweaty and dusty from travel, but is obviously a clean man. Those brown curls are delightful. His blue eyes are vivid in his tanned face, and he has facial features that are beautiful in a purely masculine way. Thick shoulders. Huge hands. Those snug riding britches that show his strong thighs… and that he likes you. “Follow me up in ten minutes,” you say to him in a low voice. “I’ll leave my door open just a crack.”

When Sherman peeks into the room, you’re down to just your corset and pantalettes. “Can ya help a girl out here?” you ask, turning your back to him so he can undo the laces. It actually hooks up the front and you are completely capable of taking it off yourself, but you love the sensation of a pair of rough, masculine hands untying the knot and loosening laces. You let out a sigh as his fingers brush your bare skin.

He presses his lips to the back of your neck, biting and sucking, making your moan a little. You turn around, coyly holding your undone corset to your breasts, then letting it slip down a little so he can see the pink tips in the candle light. He reaches out and gives one a quick pinch. “Oh, ya like to play rough, huh?” you tease. He responds by grabbing the base of your braid and using it to pull you in for a kiss. His mouth is hard, demanding. This is a man who hasn’t been with a woman for a while, you can tell. Heat washes through your lower belly as you feel his erection pressing against you. You work your loosened corset down your body without breaking the kiss, then undo the waistband of your pantalettes and let them fall. Sherman moves both of his hands to your buttocks, squeezing hard as he grinds his hips on yours.

“Do ya want to watch me bathe?” you say against his mouth.

He lets go of you. “Yeah,” he replies eagerly. 

“First, though, try some of my wine.” You sashay over to the nightstand, letting him feast his eyes on your bare body while you fill a glass, enjoying the lust in his eyes. “Strawberries and cherries. Nectar of the gods.” Sherman reaches for the glass, but you pull it away. You sit on the bed. Looking at him from beneath lowered lashes, you dip a finger into the wine and then drip it onto one nipple. He sits next to you and sucks the wine from the little sensitive nub, making it go hard. You drip of wine all over your torso and he greedily licks up it, making small, animal-like growling noises.

Sherman shoves you down onto your back. “Not yet,” you say. “My bath, remember?” With an impatient grunt, he lets you back up.

The water is still warm. The tub is small. You do the necessary washing first, then put on a little show. You stretch each leg up in the air in turn, slowing running the wash cloth up and down them, then move on your breasts. As he watches you in the tub, he starts stripping. Hat, boots with silver spurs, socks. Jacket, neckerchief. You lick your lips as he unbuttons his shirt, baring a perfect torso. Then it’s just his riding britches and underwear, which he shucks off together. Now he’s completely naked, and it is a glorious sight. Lord, he’s hung, too. The sight of his huge, purple cock is making you throb between your legs.

“Bring me some of that wine,” you say. He takes a swig of wine, kneels next to the tub and puts his mouth on yours to share. You swallow the wine, then enjoy his kiss, his lips and tongue tasting sweet. “Mmm. Nice. Now, can ya bring me the towel?” You stand up in the tub. Sherman wraps the towel around you and you step out. “Your turn.”

Sherman folds himself into the tub. It’s a tight fit. You get on your knees and take the washcloth, running it all over his body. You soap up his arms, shoulders, and chest. You get behind his ears, around his neck, between his toes. Then you move up his strong legs and grasp his erection, getting it all soapy and slippery. He moans as you slide your hand up and down its hard length. His eyes close and his mouth falls open as he clutches the sides of the tub. You can feel him pulsing in your hand. You squeeze. His eyes snap open and he seizes your hand. In one swift motion, he’s out of the tub and picking you up and tossing you on the bed.

Sherman yanks your towel off and gets onto the bed, heedless of how much water he’s dripping onto it. “Enough playing around,” he growls as he pushes your legs apart. He crawls up until his hard-on is pressed against your womanhood, glaring down at you while he braces himself on his elbows. You whimper a little and writhe against him. “Ya feeling an ache right there?” he asks as he wiggles his pelvis against yours.

“Yeah.”

“Ya want some of this?” He jerks his hips sharply. You whimper again. “I’m taking that as a yes.” He puts one of your knees over his shoulder and eases himself inside you. “Damn, girl. You’re so hot and wet. Can’t buy that with money.” He watches your face as he starts to thrust, those deep blue eyes avidly watching the expression on your face as you hum with pleasure. His own face is flushed and damp with sweat, his mouth slack with lust.

You dig your fingers into the meat of his shoulders, your hips rising to meet his. He fills you up so that it’s nearly painful. It’s been too long since you’ve had a man. “Mmm, that’s so good,” you purr. He thrusts a little harder, a little faster. Your mouth falls open, then you bite your lip and moan. “ _So good_!”

Sherman lifts your other knee over his shoulder and rocks, rocks, rocks into you. You brace one hand one the mattress and grab the headboard with the other, using the leverage gained to thrust back harder against him. There’s a ripple in your lower belly, and then you are swept into _la petite mort_.

“Can’t buy that with money, either,” you hear Sherman rasp as your orgasm subsides. “The way your sweet pussy squeezes my cock when ya come.” He slows down his thrusts, moving his hips in a leisurely roll. “I’m gonna make ya come one more time.” Lowering his head, he sucks and licks at the tips of your breasts. You stretch like a cat, enjoying this slow love-making. You  clutch his firm, high ass and move your hips with his.

Sherman kisses his way up your neck, then to your lips. Long, soft kisses, tongues meeting, moaning and growling into each other’s mouths. The tension is building up in your lower belly again, winding tighter and tighter with each thrust, each languorous sweep of the tongue, and then it releases in sweet, sweet pleasure. This time, he comes, too, making a low roaring noise as he pulls out and spills his seed on your belly.

.................

Damn. He’d had been right. _Quality_. Sherman lay on his back in complete and utter contentment. “Want some more wine?” she asked.

“Sure.” Sherman had never been much of a wine drinker, but this could change his mind. Delicately sweet, tasting richly of the fruit it was made from. He drank it down to the lees. His mind started to go a bit fuzzy. “I feel… odd.”

“Just have more wine,” she said as she poured more into his glass. Just before his eyes closed, he noticed that the signet on her ring was hanging open on a delicate hinge.

..............

His head felt enormous, too heavy to move. He had a taste in his mouth like he’d been licking dead things. Groaning, he turned onto his side, then attempted to sit up. “Y/N?” He pried his sticky eyes open. She was gone.

“Shit!” So were his silver spurs. He grabbed his gun belts and checked the secret compartments; she’d found all his money, too. At least she’d left him his guns.

.................

You don’t understand why you have to steal. You just do. You always have. That’s how you ended up in this godforsaken territory all by yourself. It’ll probably be the death of you someday. But now you’re leading your pack mules home and enjoying the jingle of your beautiful new silver spurs. Spanish-made, with delicate scrollwork etched into them. They’re even better than your onyx signet ring with the hidden compartment.

You stop next to a wide, slow creek and let your animals get their fill of food and grass, cooking up some porridge over a small fire for yourself. You’re just finishing up washing your dishes when you feel a small circle of cold metal against your cheek. “There’s a lot of men who’d kill ya for what ya done.”

“Hey, Sherm.” You stay still and calm, although your heart speeds up. This isn’t the first time you’ve had a gun to your head. “Sorry. Nothin’ personal. It’s just that when I see somethin’ pretty, I take it. How’d ya sneak up on me like that?”

“Used to be a Texas Ranger. Learned a few things.” Sherman uses his free hand to unbuckle your gun belts and tosses them away, then backs up a little. “Give me my spurs.” You unfasten them and hand them to him. “Now stand up and strip down to your scanties.” You smile. You like this kind of dangerous game. You pull off your jacket and your shirtwaist, step out of your split skirt. “That little thing, too,” he says, gesturing at your lacy corset cover with his gun. You unbutton it slowly, then let it slide down you arms. “Now turn around.” You obey.

When he seizes your wrists, you try to fight, but he’s too fast, too strong. He has you down on the ground and then your hands are tied behind you. He pulls you over his knee and you squeak in surprise when one of those big hands of his slaps you hard on the ass. “What the hell are ya doin’?” you yell as he slaps you again.

“Givin’ ya what a brat needs. A good spankin’.” He easily holds your thrashing body down with one arm while he disciplines you. The odd thing is, you’re getting excited by what he’s doing to you. The vibrations of his slaps are traveling straight into your pussy and making you ache. You’re so angry with him that you can’t even form words but, oh, you are getting so damn aroused. “Damn. You yowl like a wildcat.”

 _Slap slap slap_. He smacks the meaty parts of your buttocks until they burn, then moves to the tops of your thighs. “Ya think you’ve learned your lesson, or do ya need a few more spanks?” he says. You can tell from his tone of voice that he’s enjoying every second of this. You refuse to answer and his hand cracks down again on your ass. “Ya keep actin’ like a brat, I may just have to do this to your bare bottom. That’s gonna sting worse.”

The thought of him taking down your pantalettes and using his hand on your naked, exposed cheeks makes you squirm. You want him to do just that, but you’ll be damned if you’ll let him know. Finding out that you enjoy getting spanked like a naughty child is embarassing enough. You’ll be damned if you let him know that he’s arousing you. “I’ve learned my lesson, Daddy. I’ll be good.” Daddy? Why did you say that?

Sherman laughs and then lets out a long, low whistle. “Daddy, huh? I like the sound of that.” He takes you off his lap and helps you into a sitting position. You glare at him, hoping he thinks that your flushed and sweaty state is due to anger, not arousal. It’s really hard to stay frowny while looking at that gorgeous face, though, especially with it creased in a big, happy grin.

“What ya so happy about?” you snap.

“Got ya all het up, didn’t I.”

“No!”

“What’s that wet spot I saw on your bloomers, then?” You just lift your chin. “Have it your way.” He stands up and takes off his hat, shirt and jacket, then kneels by the stream and splashes water all over himself. He stands up again and lets you get a good look of his wet torso glimmering in the late afternoon sun. The wicked glint in those blue, blue eyes lets you know he knows exactly what he’s doing. He stretches, and you bite your lip at the sight of his muscles moving under his skin. “Looks like you want something, Daddy’s girl. What is it?”

“Untie me and I’ll tell ya.”

“Uh uh. Can’t trust ya. Plus, ya look awfully cute like that.” He runs a hand down his stomach. “What is it you want? My… gun?” His hand slides down to his crotch, to the impressive bulge there. Involuntarily, you let out a small whimper. He grins as he starts taking everything else off. Soon, he’s gloriously naked and completely shameless, wrapping his hand around his erection and giving it a squeeze. “Ya have to tell me what ya want, girl.”

You swallow hard. “I want to--I want to use my mouth on ya.” You really, really do. That thick cock, swelling up even bigger before your eyes, is making your mouth water. Sherman helps you up into a kneeling position. You lean forward and kiss the very tip, feeling it getting wet with pre-cum beneath your lips, then lick it up and down like you’d lick a piece of stick candy. He grasps your braid, tilting your head so you’re looking up at him while you do it. He’s hot underneath your tongue, rock hard under the velvet skin. You trace the veins with the tip of your tongue. Then you tilt your head back further. “I want ya to fuck me.”

His cock twitches. “Maybe if ya ask more politely.”

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you say with a pout. He twitches again, harder this time. “But untie me first.”

“Nope.”

You consider not letting him have you, but then you’d be stuck with your hands tied and no way to relieve the throbbing ache between your legs. You squeeze your thighs together tightly, but that doesn’t help much. This man has you so excited, you can barely think anymore.

“Ya keep me waiting, I’ll just take care of myself.” He’s touching himself again, lightly stroking his erection.

You can feel wetness dripping down the insides of your thighs. “Please fuck me, Daddy.”

He’s on you in a split second, roughly pulling off your pantalettes and leaving you in only your corset. He spins you around so you’re kneeling in front of him, bent over. He holds onto the leather strap that binds your wrists while he guides himself into you, gripping your hip with his other hand while he starts thrusting. “Ya like that?” he growls.

“I like it, Daddy!” He fills you up, almost more than you can take.

“Ya like when I do it hard?” He starts slamming his hips into yours.

“Yes, Daddy!” It’s _so damn good_. He stops for a moment, chuckling when you whine in frustration, then starts again. The way he’s tugging at the strap on your wrists is chafing your skin, but you barely notice the pain. All you care about is the way he’s fucking you. You can feel that little tremble start, and then you’re coming, crying out so loud that you can hear it echo down the creek. Sherman pulls out, and you feel liquid heat on your buttocks as he moans raspily deep in his throat.

....................

Sherman cut her bonds and watched her examine the abrasions they left. “Ya marked me,” she said.

“I mark what’s mine. Got my initials on my spurs.”

“Ya sayin’ I belong to ya now? Thought ya was just passin’ through.”

“I am. Ya got anythin’ holdin’ ya here?”

“My wine business.”

“Is that enough excitement for a gal like you? Wouldn’t ya rather be an outlaw’s sweetheart?”

She looked up at him dubiously. “You? An outlaw? Thought ya said ya was a Texas Ranger.”

“ _Was_. Ever hear of the Cowboys?”

“Where’s your red sash?”

“In my saddle bag. I’m supposed to be meeting up with the rest of the gang in Arizona territory.” Sherman stood up and started getting dressed. “I need to get a move on, though. Got delayed by a brat.” He buckled his gun belts back on. “So. What’s it gonna be?”

She gives him an impish grin. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Just remember, ya get bratty again, I’ll spank your bare butt.”

“I’ll be good, Daddy,” she said, in a voice promising that she really wouldn’t.


End file.
